


Inside Voice, Outside Voice

by CalvinPitt



Category: One Piece
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nakamaship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalvinPitt/pseuds/CalvinPitt
Summary: Whenever someone new joins a crew, they always have some quirks the others have to learn and adjust to.Especially if the new member was a skeleton living alone in the fog for fifty years.





	Inside Voice, Outside Voice

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I don't own One Piece. I doubt you really need me to tell you that, but just in case.
> 
> 2\. I had a thought about Brook, I wanted to write up something short and sweet about it, and here we are.

The Thousand Sunny was a day out from Thriller Bark, and things were roughly normal on-board the ship. Other than Franky, who was working on a project in the hold, the rest of the crew was on deck. 

Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp were fishing. Zoro had taken advantage of Chopper being distracted to tear off his bandages and resume training in the crow’s nest. Sanji was twirling out of the kitchen periodically with another drink or snack for Nami and Robin. The cook was in the middle of swooning over some vague compliment Nami had given him, when a voice nearby interrupted.

“Yes, some new cloths would be good, but I absolutely need to purchase some polish for the wood.” A pause. “Well, yes, some new string for the bow would be good. I imagine there are new types, though, so I’ll have to determine what is best.”

The three pirates glanced over to their newest nakama, who sat beneath one of Nami’s trees. The musician was turning his violin over in his hands. Even though his expression never changed, he gave off an air of intense focus.

In a slightly different voice, he continued, “A new pad, too, since it won’t rest as it did before.”

He responded to himself in the voice the Straw Hats had become accustomed to. “True, I no longer have the cheeks I used to, as I no longer have cheeks. Yohohoho!”

It was Nami who asked the obvious question. “Uh, Brook? Who are you talking to?”

The skeleton paused and looked over to see the three of them watching with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “My apologies, Nami, what did you say? I was lost in thought over what supplies I need to restore my violin.”

“Yeah, we know.”

“Oh?” The musician sounded surprised. “Have you learned to read my thoughts? Or perhaps it was dear lady Robin? Did you place an eye inside my head? Although there is nothing to see there. Skull Joke!”

“You were talking out loud,” Sanji stated.

“I was?” He looked out to sea, staring at something distant and unseen, before turning to face them again. “My apologies. I’ve grown accustomed to speaking my thoughts aloud. It helps to keep them organized.”

Nami nodded. “I do that sometimes, especially if we’re about to reach a new island and I haven’t had time to make a list of what we need.” 

“I do that, too, but you sounded like you were having a conversation,” Sanji added.

Brook somehow managed to look sheepish, as he turned his face away and scratched at the side of his head with one bony finger. “While trapped in the Florian Triangle, I would sometimes pretend my crew was still with me, and I would converse with them. It helped me keep their memory alive, to imagine how they would respond if they were there.” He paused again. 

“And for a time, I would not feel so alone.” 

The other three pirates digested this information silently. They all had those they might never see again, ones whose memory they tried to keep bright in their mind’s eye. 

Brook rose from his seat, stretching as he did. “Still, I am part of a new crew now, and it might be best to abandon the practice, in the interests of politeness if nothing else.”

“You don’t have to do that, Brook,” Nami rushed to reassure him. “There’s nothing wrong with it, and you weren’t bothering any of us. We just didn’t know what was going on.”

“Nami is correct,” Robin added. “The rest of the crew will understand.”

“On this crew, talking out loud to yourself barely qualifies as unusual,” Sanji pointed out. “I’m pretty sure that shitty swordsman talks to his blades sometimes!”

The skeleton looked as though he was ready to cry, if he’d had tear ducts, that is, and responded with a deep, formal bow. “Thank you, my friends. I think I will get some sun.”

As he walked to the lower deck, Brook reflected this crew helped more than they knew. All those years trapped in the endless, unchanging fog, he began to think his life prior to that was a hallucination. His life as a Rumbar Pirate only a fantasy he’d made up about a ship full of bodies he’d somehow become stranded with.

But now, back sailing the seas with another lively and adventurous crew, Brook could feel it within his bones (not that he had anywhere else to feel anything, yohoho) that this wasn’t his first time living this life. Even as he would surely add new memories of this crew, it made his old memories feel more solid. He didn’t have to keep talking out loud with his departed friends. Not to keep them clear in his mind, and not to keep from feeling lonely. He still could if he felt like it, though, which was nice.

Nami, Sanji, and Robin watched Brook stroll down the stairs. The skeleton appeared to be humming softly to himself, and there was a jaunty bounce to his step. They each smiled and relaxed, relieved that they hadn’t hurt Brook’s feelings with their questions.

From the bottom of the stairs, they heard faint sounds of conversation resume. Then, much louder, as if hit by a burst of inspiration, the musician stated, “That’s true! If Nami and Robin are both on deck, then I could go see what kind of panties are in the dressers in their room! An excellent idea!”

“BROOOOOK!” The skeleton in question turned to see an angry navigator glaring at him.

“Oh dear, did I speak out loud again? Or perhaps my thoughts echo inside my skull. Yohohoho!” At which point Brook made a mad dash for the galley, hoping to escape Nami’s wrath. Or at least see her panties.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not totally satisfied with this, but I really only had the vague idea that Brook being by himself for 50 years, he would have gotten used to voicing his thoughts aloud, because there was no one around to disturb. And that he might switch back and forth between that and just thinking them. 
> 
> A lot of my work involves being on my own outside, so I'm used to talking out loud to myself (helps to break up the monotony) and sometimes I take the approach I'm having a conversation with someone.


End file.
